#kuhato

Pre-Established Relationships Meme 2.0

FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /  [ your muse ] is the good influence  /  [ your muse ] is the bad influence  /  [ my muse ] is the good influence  /  [ my muse ] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other

ROMANCE.     childhood sweethearts  /  [ your muse is mines ] childhood crush  /  [ my muse is yours ] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [ from your muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from my muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from both sides ]  /  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]  /  soulmates  [ literal ]  /  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [ on your muse ]  /  cheating [ with your muse ]  /  other 

FAMILIAL.     siblings [ half ]  /  siblings [ step ]  /  [ my muse ] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /  [ my muse ] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /  [ my muse ] is a parental figure to yours  /  [ my muse ] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /  [ your muse ] is taken under mines wing  /  [ my muse ] is taken under yours wing  /  other

Zack looks at her. Really looks at her, and he wonders whether a satisfactory answer exists. How much of trust is actually obligation, and how much of obligation is a perceived lack of choice? He wasn’t strong enough to stop what happened at Nibelheim, what happened to all those villagers, what happened to Tifa, to Cloud… He should have been strong enough. 

Ever since he got back to Midgar, catatonic Cloud in tow, the guilt plagues him every time he looks at them both. 

The chunky CRT television sitting on its shelf behind Tifa’s head continues to play out the nightly news report. Mundane. State of the economy, the latest play headlining on Loveless Ave, rising unrest in the slums, weekly weather. Strange, how little has changed in the intervening past half decade or so. 

By this time tomorrow, the Daily Buzz will be reporting on a very different topic. One that he never thought he’d be a direct part of.  

“Would it matter even if I said yes? I’m not askin’ you to.” He falls silent, one finger tapping along the side of the glass held between his hands. She has no reason whatsoever to want or even need his help, but he wants to make the offer nonetheless.

“Look, you guys could use an extra set of hands, right?” Zack slides his empty shot glass across the counter, where the moving cup leaves a trail of condensation across the polished grain of the wood. Head bowed, Zack stares at his own hands, clenches them into fists before leveling his gaze on Tifa once more. “Not exactly a big Shinra guy myself these days. Consider it repayment from yours truly.”  

critical role sentence starters !!!

the sound of the highwind above them is just a gentle purr, a far cry from the roar of engines and machinery when it’s actually in flight. it gives him time to reflect, to gather his thoughts and bask in the calm. peace, he hasn’t known it in years –maybe ever– but here, with her, he’s finally found it. 

❛  never gonna happen. ❜  it’s a bold statement considering he’s almost died or lost himself multiple times since coming back into her life. but he’s still standing, and next to her no less. last night he told the team to search in their hearts and discover what they’re fighting for. he’s fighting for this –for a thousand mornings just like it. a chance...to live.

uhhhmmm 911 mari’s spoiling me w too many hot love interests

@kuhato sent an ask n tumblr lied 2 me

her  fingertips  ,  hesitant  at  to  touch  at  first  ,  settled  against  tifa’s  bicep  with  a  softness that  could  render  a  rough  stone  smooth  .  she  understood  what  it  was  like  to  have  a  pleasant  dream  ripped  through  her  fingers  like  sand  on  the  beach  .  she  understood  and  with  it  came  a  familiar  pain  ,  it  beat  and  throbbed  in  her  chest  like  a  migraine  in  her  heart  .  but  it  was  a  pain  she  didn’t  show  ,  couldn’t  show   ,  not  now   . if  she  couldn’t  give  her  friend  hope  through  her  smile  then  what  kind  of  friend  did  that  make  her  ?

    she  craned  her  head  upwards  ,  tilting  at  an  angle  to  try  and  meet  her  eyes  .  her  tone  was  as  equally  soft  as  her  touch  ,  if  not  just  a  bit  teasing  .   “  Well  ,  you’re  part  right  .  I  think  dreams  are  more  powerful  than  we  give  them  credit  for  ,  Tifa  .  They  may  not  be  real  in  that  moment  but  they  give  us  the  drive  to  make  them  real  .  I  know  how  frustrating  it  can  be  but … . I  don’t  think  you  should  give  up  them  so  easily  .  We  can  work  towards  them  together  ,  right  ?  ”

         Were he still a heavy sleeper as he had been once upon a time––during a youth wasted between the walls of tightly packed homes, with bloody knuckles and bruised flesh; his lullabies the harsh taunts of his white sheep peers--perhaps he would not have been disturbed so easily. Yet, as he was no longer that boy, it took few cues for him to know all was not well that night. In a wink he was swinging his legs over the edge and allowing bare feet to land on cat's paws over the cool hardwood, himself sequestered in the corner of his office above the bar.          Senses strained, and he wondered for a moment if he were not going mad when nothing could be heard. . . but there!! An unbearable sound of someone crying out, quiet and muffled from a room away. && thus he knew just who had stirred him from his own foggy slumber, and wasted no time in leaving his bed to make way through their little place and seek them out.

         In moments he was down the hall and slipping into her room, making certain to close the door just in case––no point in waking the kids at this late hour, and they would be little balls of worried energy until they fall back asleep.          && if they could see the sight she made as she jerked awake, it would take 'til sunrise for them to do that. Such that concern scrunched the fine blond hairs of his brow down as he gently lowered himself to the mattress. Sat by her hip now, with his name finding purchase on her lips––the w a y she says it--only worsens that feeling. Her suffering is plain to see,

and something nameless aches deeep in the furthest caverns of his chest for her. There is no thought to it when he reaches out and gently tucks stray tresses behind her ear.                   (    what else can he do ?    )

         There is no resistance when her fingers capture his hand and keep him there. He has no reason to offer any. Instead, he merely remains as he is, waiting and listening as she identifies the ghosts haunting her this night. A pang, old as the wounds themselves, accompany the words, and he understands. She lost even more than he did in those flames, && even before them, but the amount doesn't matter so much in the scheme of things. It all hurts the same.          A tremor runs through her, felt when finally she drops her hold––yet he doesn't. Not at first, as he mulls it over. She's given him an out; a way to retreat back to his makeshift bedroom if he wants it. . . but he doesn't. At all. What he does want, he isn't certain how to go about at first.                   (    completely out of his element here, but that doesn't mean he can't try.    )          A shakey exhale is the only sign of his nerves as he shifts his hand, removing it only for that same arm to find it's way betwixt her ribcage and bicep. It curls, reeling her in towards him whilst he meets the motion in leaning forward. Only when she is tucked against him, her head somewhere below his clavicle, his chin lightly resting 'pon her head. The other hand lifting, barely hesitating, before it comes to cup her nape, fingers spearing through loose hairs there.